Another Evangelion
by Panan
Summary: This is the tale of a man who has yet to see his full potential as he walks across the roads of fate. Adiing maple syrup to this fic is entirely optional.
1. The Road of Destiny

AUTOR'S NOSE: Music that will help set the mood for the fic will be |-(like so)-|.  
>Aaaand this is my first fic, so try not to break my legs if I accidently fling anything regarded as canon out the window, light it on fire, then piss on it. Which would sound a lot like it was on purpose, though I assure you, it is a complete accident. Yep. Just an accident.<p>

-o-

**Unknown where the Cursed Wave was born After the stars doth cross the heavens, The sky in the East doth darken and air doth fill with mourning. From the chosen land beyond the forest, a sign of the wave comes.**

-o-

Weary emerald orbs peered through the blinds of his window, out at the desert, scanning for any volatile rivals.

Thankfully, none were in sight. Donovan Jiiha grinned, although it came out more like a small smile. He had just recently recovered from a bad fever, though that wouldn't stop him from kicking some ass and taking one or two names.  
>Atleast, in his mind it wouldn't stop him. His body ached in reality, and his movements were sluggish. Though, he could never stop doing his hobby, flu or measels.<p>

That hobby being scavenging.

He looked around his room, a simplistic, but rather rickety old iron chamber, with bed, dresser, desk, (broken piece of shit) laptop, and assorted sketches. His shovel rested against one of the thick metal walls, it's steely glint calling to the boy, as though it wanted him to pick it up.

Now the boy, he was young, but tough.  
>One had to be tough to survive on a desert planet. He was short, about four foot nine, his skin a dark marking from the days he stayed out in the son, his hair a surprisingly mousy brown, two large bangs flopped over his eyes, his eyes being a particularly brilliant looking emerald. Not that he thought so, though. He just thought they were green, and particularly boring. His hands were rough from the day to day chores, like working the purifier and doing repairs to whatever fell off during the night. Not that he really thought they were chores. To him, it was more like having a job he didn't get paid for. Which, he supposed, chores could be considered that.<p>

He stood up, , and he was now wearing his usual attire; a short brown cloak that draped around his shoulders, some shorts, and some old, worn down work shoes. No shirt though. Going out in that heat with a shirt was the equivlant of putting on a winter jacket during summer in Arizona. Suicide. But of course, Donovan had no idea what 'Arizona' was, seeing as he lived on a planet untouched by earth. Or, so he thought. We'll go over that later, though.

The boy's mind was thinking about two things at the moment; what possibly sweet loot he might find, and women. Lots and lots of women. If he wasn't searching for gold in a desert, he was thinking about women, mainly Connor Nikopol's sister, though that was more to spite Connor than it was to actually score a date. He particullarly disliked the Nikopols, and pissing them off was one of his life long objectives.

Of course, he quickly cleared his mind. He hadn't time to dawdle about, fantasizing about blondes and brunettes with gratious ammounts of bust and butt, he figured he had to get to scavenging before dawn came. After all, if the village cheif found out that he scavenged, his hobby would be fucked five ways from sunday with a giga drill.

He clattered around the town, which was situated at the top of a run down chrome fort, which was screwed to the earth below the sand. It was amazing how long the old thing had still been standing. Maybe even a blessing? No, thought Donovan. If there is a god up there, he sure as hell dosen't give two fucks about the affairs of us deadbeats, no blessings here. Not. One. Miracle.

Donovan is... bitter. About a lot of things. Mainly how his father just vanished around a year ago, without even one goodbye. It filled him with anger... and worry. What had happened to his dad, anyways?

He eventually found the stairs down to the mainland, and began his descent. It was... quiet. He liked it like that, no noisy blonde twats, no barking village teeth, just the wind, and the sand's gentle movement under his shoes. He went over the nearby dunes, hovering over them with a metal detector. The boy thought he looked like an idiot doing it, mainly because the device, in his opinion, looked increadibly lame. But it was nessessary for scavenging. He didn't think he had much else, other than scavanging.

Dune after dune, after dune after dune, he had found not a single thing. Well, he had found something. A bit of tin foil. What kind of idiot drops a scrap of metal out in the middle of a desert? Thought the boy. The travelling carpenter? Oh, thanks for noticing the shitbox fort out in the distance, I CERTAINLY don't mind if you just TROT OFF without even seeing if anyone's alive in there. Bastards, the lot of them.

What is it with the junk I keep finding around here? Thought the boy. Watches, screws, batteries... Do people even come by this little neck of the desert? I don't see anyone. Not ever. Not one soulstain of spiritjizz. Nope. Nothing. Just like this goddamn desert.

He looked out at the sunrise, as though glaring at the sun. He had a love-hate relationship with this desert. It was his home, but it was desolate.

His hateful little train of thought went off the tracks when he heard the metal detector go off. BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP. God, he hated that noise. He hated a lot of noises, but that one pissed him off the most. Made him want to gut someone with a rusty trowel. Maybe that Nikopol kid... Nah. He'd save that for later, probably tommorow. He dug through the sand, keeping a close eye on the hole he was digging, and the pile it was making. Then, he saw it. It was small, and bronze, maybe even gold, and looked like some kind of... necklace. Or rather, what would hang off a necklace, there wasn't exactly a chain or anything. Donovan, getting a little excited, reached his tough skinned hand down, and snatched it up, giving it a good look over, mind swimming with greed.

He stood corrected. It was a drill bit.

"...What the FUCK! Way to go, Don, your father must be so proud of you for digging up useless shit out in the middle of the desert! Aren't you just a special boy!" He nearly shook with anger. If he wasn't still recovering, he probably would've stomped something. "Useless piece of..."

Just as he got ready to toss it as far as he could, a green glow caught his eye. At first, he thought the green laser of a high grade sniper rifle, and hit the deck... before quickly realizing that the glow was coming from his hand. He looked... and it turned out that the glow was coming from the drill bit.

"...It glows? Oh boy," the boy said, "now I can go have sweet rave parties with my friends and not need a glowstick! " The boy began thrusting his pelvis, acapellaing some techno song with various "oonce"s and "the system is down"s. Of course, he stopped after his small and particullarly sarcastic gesture, and pocketed the drill.

"Boy, what kind of moola can a rake in for selling a seemingly useless glowing drill. Probably..." He counted on his fingers. "10 bucks. Maybe if I make a big show out of it, I can sell it for more..." He tapped his foot. "Oh wait, I don't know any assholes who would buy a glowing drill bit! Tch... Probably just a usless little drill."  
>He thought a moment. "Well, better not be radioactive, or I'm going to choke a bitch."<p>

-o-

He looked up at the crudely made cardboard entrance sign to the town, letting a few memories from when he was much younger flow into his mind.  
>"WELCOME TO NAMELESS!"<br>Boy, the geniuses who came up with that one got more than one shovel based assault from Don. About five, to be exact.

Don sighed. Again, the thought crossed his mind. He wasn't sure of a lot of things. Like now, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to go back home. The idea of running off into the desert like a mad man had crossed his mind more than once... but had dismissed the thoughts. After all, they were batshit fucking crazy.

After a long while of thought... he decided to go home, this time, and sleep while he could. But something caught his eye. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw... a girl. Her hair was silver, and she too was wearing a cloak, but hers was silver, had a brooch that looked like a sideways eight (also silver), and the cloak went down to her knees. She was around his age, maybe a little younger. Of course, the thought of flirting with the girl who just popped out of nowhere flew into Donovan's head. He shook the thoughts out of his head...

And when he looked back at her, she was gone.

"...I need to never take another acid tablet ever again. Ever. Messes with your mind, even after the high wears off."

And then, he climbed the steps, unaware of the path fate had chosen for him.

Not that he cared much about fate.

|-(It's a Golden Show - Cathrine OST)-|

-o-

"UP AN' ADEM', SHORTSTOP!"

Donovan was rudely awoken by the village chief running in, voice loud as a jet engine, banging a metal spoon to a large pan, looking about as irritated and thickheaded as ever. The cheif was a pudgey man, mostly bald, with the exception of a single split hair that stuck out of the front of his scalp, and a crude three o' clock shadow. He wore wooden sandals, and a pair of white pants, strongly resembling what a samurai might wear in a modern age, held up against his girth with a black belt. Donovan always though he never needed it. If anything, Don always though that the pants looked uncomfortably tight on him.

"Yeah yeah, I'm up, boss. Lemme guess, I'm going to get an asschewing for being off duty for a few days?"

"Damn straight you are, runt! You're lucky I didn't toss you out the window in your sleep, or turned you into Pigmole chow!"

"Lighten up, I had a fever, I was afraid everyone might catch it." He lied. "And pigmoles don't eat mea-"

"FEVERS AREN'T CONTAGIOUS!" The cheif yelled, giving Don a hard slap to the back of the head, simultaneously.

"Even when I'm sick, I always work my hardest! You little brats should be taking a few lessons from me." The cheif said, crossing his arms, smirking proudly.

"Since when do you work?"

Don recieved a sheathed sword to the forehead for that little comment. Don responded with a rainbow's worth of colorful language.

"Boiler room, the purifier, NOW!" Roared the chief. "Okay okay! Jesus fucking christ..." Don quickly grabbed his toolbox from the dresser, and absconded from his room, hopefully avoiding the wrath of the "Fatman", as some of the people who also lived there sometimes called chief. Working his way through the several twisting passages of the town's underneath, Don entered the boiler room. It was somewhat cramped, and there was always the sound of steam hissing and water bubbling.

But Don liked it. He thought of it like a second room all to himself, seeing as he was one of the only two who could manage the purifier. That old fart of a father taught him a thing or two before he took off. The boy slid past the pipes, and to the purifier, a large, clunky machine, that purified the water from the underground aquafer. He began daily maintenance, as it usually needed.

Creak.

"What was that?"

Don looked around the room. You aren't supposed to hear things creaking in the boiler room. Ever.  
>It was at that moment, a hole was blown in one of the major steam pipes.<p>

-o-

"What? You're telling me that the pipe just... burst?"  
>"Yeah, I think I can speak english, captain fucking obvious."<br>Slap.

"Damn it! We need to get this repaired as soon as possible!" The cheif thought a moment... before coming to a conclusion. "Don, do you know how to ride a motorcycle?"

"Wha... What? Are you asking me to go somewhere on a motorcycle? Where did your chunky ass get a motorcycle!"

"Back in my youth, I was in a biker gang."

"You were in a-"

"DO YOU KNOW HOW TO RIDE ONE!"

"Gah! No, but... I mean, it can't be too hard, right?"

The cheif grinned, and placed something circular in Don's left hand. It was a compass "Well, seeing as you've 'been out' a while, I guess you can repay your dues by going and buying the parts to fix this."

"WHAT!"  
>The cheif laughed ominously.<br>"Don't worry, you'll be paying with MY hard earned cash!"

"You mean the money you scammed off the gover-"

Slap.

"Shut it, kid! Anyways, you'll be taking the bike and heading to Mac Anu, about three iles away, northwest."

"Tch... Fine. I'll go on your dumb little fetch quest to buy your My Little Ponies, and maybe I'll paint the bike with one or two rainbows."

"Why you little..."

But before the Cheif could smack Donovan, the boy was gone.

-o-

Don, after a "little" trial and error, and coughing up a lot of sand, eventually got the hang of biking. In the pit of his shriveled up little heart, he may have found riding somewhat enjoyable, but after so much crashing and literal burning, Don was in one of the shittiest moods known to man. So shitty, they had to make a new word for it.

"Angerious"

It fit Don quite well at the moment.

The boy began to feel a twinge of despair in his mind. Even though he had been going STRAIGHT northwest, he felt like he was getting lost. And getting lost in the desert usually meant death.  
>The boy tried to reassure himself. "Alright, Don, just keep it togehter... You'll live, you won't disappear... You won't disappear like Dad did. Just calm your angry tits..." He tried, but all he did was make the pit in his stomach grow larger. Was he going to disappear? Would he just be forgotten? He didn't want to be forgotten... He couldn't stand for going out without doing anything important in his life. Not ever. Though, he knew life was quite the finicky bitch sometimes, and when someone has got to die, someone has got to die. Don just trudged on, despite how nervous he was.<p>

After a few more minutes of driving, he finally saw something out on the horizon.

|-(2EM09_YAMASHITA, Rebuild of Evangelion 2.0 Soundtrack)-|

And there, close to the horizon, basked in the gold light of the sun, was the fortress city Mac Anu. It was a massive structure, with a bronze color. But on top of the bulk, several buildings towered into the air, along with some shorter buildings. Don had only seen cities like this in photos and magazines, so you can imagine just how far his jaw dropped when he saw the structure. He accelerated, every fiber in his being screaming at him to go towards the magnificent structure.

-o-

**This is the tale of a man who has yet to realize his full potential.**

-o-

Annnnd I am done with the first chapter. Whew, that was a long start up. Chapter 2 is to be posted soon!


	2. Just Who The Hell Do You Think He Is!

Oh boy, it is just now that I realize that most of the time skipping signified with three -'s wasn't shown, for whatever reason. OH WELL [/notevengivingafuck]. I'll try and fix that this chapter.

-o-

|-(Water Capital Mac Anu, .hack/infection OST)-|

It was particularly obvious that Donovan had never been to a city, seeing his wide eyed gazes and abundant excited jitters whenever he gazed about. The feeling of being in a place so big, to him, was both frightening and exilherating at the same time. The tall buildings, the small buildings, the abundance of people doing whatever it is that people do, whether it be job, school, shopping, or just wandering around, the vehicles...

Of course, Don had no idea how to read, living fourteen years either out in the sands or living in that small, goverment unsupervised, very ratty looking village, so he didn't realize he had just passed the hardware store, twice. Rather, he went into the store with the letters he though looked like pipes;

Boquet Beaut .

Donovan was now looking for parts to repair a pipe in a flower shop. He would feel quite stupid in the future for this. Though, he didn't know better at the time. He dived to and fro through the isles, searching for pipes and pipe accesories. He swore he heard someone pronounce what as "hwat" once, but he ignored it. Not his buisness anyways what pronounciation people used. Which brings the topic of the pronounciation of Evangelion... but the narrator would prefer not to get the otakus riled up on the pronounciation.

After around a half hour of searching, Donovan came to his senses, and gave up, like any rational person should've at that point, and look in another shop.  
>"Yeesh, talk about big buiness... what do they got around here, about fifteen shops? Maybe even more in the whole city? This is gonna take forever..." He muttered to himself.<br>"There HAS to be a faster way of doing this..." He scanned over the shop, and one person immeadiately caught his eye. He was a tall and lanky blonde man, a shade of dark brown defiling the spiked locks, around his late twenties, his hair shaved near the ears. He had those intense brown eyes, that if he glared, he could make you feel only two inches tall, but they showed a proud kind of kindness behind that. Another defining feature about the man was his slightly larger than average eyebrows.

Cue Donovan being a dickhead.

"Hey, bushy brows, mind telling me where I can find a hardwork store?"

"Hardwork? Well, I got a table back at the house that could use a good polishing... You looking for a job, kid?"

"No! It's that shop you... buy things like pipes at... or something. That old fartwagon didn't tell me exactly what it was."

"A hardware store? I don't think you're gonna get pipes down at a hardware store, pal. You're not from around here?"

"No, I live right down the road, first turn on Obvious Street, right next to Douchbag Lane!"

The man put up his arms, as a gesture to cool your jets. "Woah, kid, relax, we're all friends here. With that mouth, you're gonna go and get yourself stabbed with that kind of attitude."

"Knives don't scare me. Hell, I've broken more blades than I can count with just one shovel!" The boy falsely boasted. "Just who the hell do you think I am?"

The man's eyes widened. Deja vu hit him like a freight train going 88 miles an hour with a Flux Capacitor, but he didn't get why this felt farmiliar to him. He could almost understand... but it wouldn't fully come to him. Little bits and pieces, but never the faces or voices. "...Just who the hell are you, kid?"

|-(Rap is the Soul of a Man (Short Edit Version), Gurren Lagann OST)-|

"Who am I? WHO AM I? You don't know the great and mighty DONOVAN JIIHA! He, who fought against one thousand raiders with only a match and a stick of gum, and won? He who dared venture the dunes in the lands far off, that burned with a fiery hate? HE WHO MARCHED TO THE HEAVENS, JUST TO LOOK INTO THE FACE OF GOD AND SAY 'NO'!" He lied once more. "Well... I guess everyone can't witness how great I am. DOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOH!" The boy donned a shit eating grin while doing that faux laugh. Everyone, including the strange robot who was wearing a teal jacket, with a head oddly resembling a television set, who happened to be working the counter, stared at the boy, who was just feeding his self image. Or making up a new one, so it had seemed.

The man laughed... Then seemed to come to a realtization.

"Hey, what's so funny, bud? If you're laughing at me, I'll have you know you got two catterpillars right above your eyes, and you're looking pretty funny yourself! What color is your hair anyway? Blonde? Brown?"

Ignoring the hotblooded boy's little tangent about his hair, the man asked a question.  
>"Did you just say 'Jiiha'?"<p>

"Damn straight! Just who the hell did I say I was?"

The man smiled, as though he just found an abundant oasis in death valley after a week of hiking and extreme rationing.

"I'm Kittan Black. Kid, you ever heard of a little orginazation called SIGN?"

-o-

"So, lemme get this straight... There's this orginazation, made to develop special weapons, that has it's OWN military, located several iles undergr-"

"Athoms."

"...Athoms underground, with a fort on top of THAT? And to top it off, it's run by my GRANDFATHER that I've never met before, and didn't bother looking for me until around a month ago?"

"That's a pretty good summary, yeah."

"And there's nothing about that that sounds fishy in the slightest to you."

"Nope! Nadda thing!" The man grinned.

The boy grimaced."You do realize how full of shit you sou-"  
>The man slammed hard on the brakes of his car, causing the boy to slam his head into the dashboard.<br>"Better buckle up, kid, next time, you might end up flying out the front window!"

" Fuuuucking oowwwww... Why'd I agree to let you drive me to work in this deathtrap...?" He said as he buckled up.

"Because I'm not letting a fourteen year old drive me around on a bike he just learned how to ride," He stated.  
>"that, and I gotta abuse all the priveledges that my job gives me somehow!"<p>

"What?"

"The car was payed for by SIGN..." The man smiled devilishly. "...And gas prices are paid for by SIGN, too."

"...Are you serious? You get, like... A FREE, INCREADIBLY ATTRACTIVE DEATHTRAP, JUST FOR HAVING A JOB?" The boy went wide eyed.

"Yep! Nothing like a free ride around town! Still waiting for the promotion that'll earn me free food wherever I go..."

"Woah. Your job sounds... awesome."

"Eh, nothing ever really happens. Mostly paperwork and junk, but I generally get to choose what weapons are made for the Ev- military." The boy raised an eyebrow. "Ev military?" The man let out a nervous chuckle. "J-Just a slip of the tounge, I meant military."

The boy was confident the man was hiding something... but didn't pry into the man. The boy didn't think it was his buisness, so he didn't bother. Although Donovan was one the the biggest douches, at the moment, in the entirety of the universe, he knew to respect someone's privacy. After an incident involving Connor Nikopol, he let people do their own buisness.

Let's just say every time Connor says "rosie palms" around Donovan, the blonde gets a bloody nose.

-o-

SIGN had a massive headquarters, to say the least, was a complex system of steel corridors, elevators, escalators, car elevators, car escalators, monorails and stairways. At this point, Donovan had gone everywhere but the place Kittan wanted them to go. They stopped at the Rec Room, the Mess Hall (which the two had stopped for a while to eat a lunch consisting of pigmole stew and a salad. Donovan had actually shown a surprising ammount of gratitude to the chef after devouring the meal, saying a thanks and everything. Kittan noted that the fastest way to Donovan's heart is with a warm meal.), the Gym (Kittan didn't know they had one. Don suddenly felt very lost.), and the Janitor's closet ("...Why are we in here?" "I KNOW WHERE I'M GOING!").

"You sure you know where we're going, bushybrows?" Asked Don, getting a little irritated by how depressingly long the trip through SIGN's base had been.

"I'm not lost!" Exclaimed the man. "I-I mean, don't worry kid, I know this place like I know the back of hand."

"Really."

"Yep! Just fifteen minutes!" He said. Then mumbled, "Or another hour..."

"Whaddya jabber about now, Kittan?"

"Nadda thing, kid. Musta been a draft or something."

-o-

Finally, the duo had arrived at their destined location. Or rather, the location according to Kittan. It was dark, in the room, and Donovan could only notice a few things about the room. One, it was massive. Two, there was something massive in it. Three, that massive thing was submerged in some kind of liquid. Four, there was a walkway above said liquid. And five, they were on said bridge. Donovan could faintly smell blood, though, it didn't smell like human blood. Similar, yes, but there definately weren't any murders here. Something smelled off about it... but Don couldn't put a finger on it. It was just there in the air.

"Blah, it's too damn dark in here.." Said the boy. "Any reason why you keep the lights off in this little joint of yours? I mean, you did bring me down here to offer me a job, right? Wait..." Donovan's eyes went wide enough to be seen in darkness. "Is this some kind of surprise party? With strippers bursting out of the cake and blindfolded lap dances?" The boy asked. Kittan replied with, "I wish, kid. But you might find it better than that, seeing as you're at that age in your life."  
>"What's better than that kind of party?"<br>"Gentleman," said a mature sounding female voice, "the biomechanical weapon, Evangelion Model Two!"  
>The lights flashed on, and Donovan shielded his eyes. "AUGH, MY VISION! Don't turn the lights on so damn fast yoouoooooh holy..."<p>

Donovan noticed that the walkway they were standing on, along with the room, was a solid silver, and that the walkway had a nice railing to it, that one could eaisily take a hold of, and keep a good grip. He also noticed that the liquid was a delightful shade of orange that reminded him of a breakfast drink he once had from who knows when, though he was sure the name of it was something similar to bang, or mojang. Was it Mojang? He wasn't sure. But what he noticed that impressed him the most was the massive metal monster with a blue and white, and black color scheme, that was emerging from said liquid.

The Narrator drew a picture of the beast, thinking that you viewers might like to have a picture of it, seeing as decriptions from himself can be rather vague.

http : / www [dot] / gallery / Panan / Hamstark / m2_the_uber_pimp [dot] jpg

The narrator would like to say that you are to remove the spaces, and turn the [dot]s into periods, incase one is mystified by the format in which the link has been stated.

And Don could only say one sentance at the moment.

"...Better than strippers."

He heard that mature voice laugh, and the clank of shoes on metal coming ever closer from behind him. Both him, and Kittan, turned, a before them they both saw what a man would consider "eye candy".

|-(Lovely Boin, Gurren Lagann OST)-|

She was a woman, with fair but pale skin, with long, red, (and I mean red, not that orange stuff) hair, down to her hips, with grey eyes that seemed to scream of sophistication and class, but the dark bags under them said she got very little sleep, and worked too much. She wore black high heeled shoes, a plum skirt that went to just above her knees, and clung to her sides rather nicely, with a button up white dress shirt underneath a lab coat. "I was one of the two who designed it. Real beauty, isn't it?"

" CRICKETS!"

The boy fell backwards, K.O'd, with a nosebleed.

He simply couldn't handle two amazing events in a row.

-o-

What's with the giant robot? Why's Kittan acting so funny? Who's the babe? And where does Donovan get his massive douchebag energies from? Find out, in a later instalment of...  
>SUPER SOLENOID Z! <p>


	3. Row Row Fight The Terror

**Riding the Wave is Skeith, the Shadow of Death, to drown all that stands.**

-o-

It came from the sky, it's appearence strange, abstract, and deadly. It's broken halo, it's blade of the messiah, it's ... weird eyeball theme. A giant red core stuck out of the eye shaped indentation on it's chest, giving it the illusion that it had one massive red eye on it's chest. None of the other eye shaped intervals in the gray and stony hide had any form that there were pupils, revealing the yellow, sinewy muscles underneath the stone. It had a tri eyed mask, strongly resembling that of a bird's face. A weird, triclops alien bird, yes, but a bird none the less, though that was it's only resemblance to the creature. It's limbs floated, detached from the body by some invisible force, though it still held the shape of a man, if man had three fingers and very pointy feet, and cresent shaped bones sticking out of it's back.

In other words, it looked something like this;

http : / / www [dot] majhost [dot] com / gallery / Panan / Hamstark / the _ terror _ of _ death [dot] jpg

It hovered midair, above the city. No one expected the beast to appear, so unlike in the events of another world, far from this one, in which a man would have yet to release the barriers seperating him from others, settled by a spiral race not naturally born of the planet, they had no particularly spectacular bombs or wavelength radars to greet the monster with. It looked down, its eyes probing the manmade creation before it, before finally resting it's vision threefold on someone... oddly farmilliar. It was a boy, (or was it a girl? The gender was hard to tell with this fruitloop), with long cobalt hair reaching down to his(or her) shoulder blade, covering one of his eyes, which were as orange as orange Tang. He(or she) wore a boy's school uniform; a white, short sleaved dress shirt, along with slacks that were as blue as his(or her) hair, and a white belt holding them to his(or her) waist. He(or she) was smiling an ominous smile, one that might make you think he(or she)'d go for your neck. He(or she) was standing alongside a girl (a definate girl), who had long sliver locks, a cloak bearing an infinity insignia, with white clothes underneath. Her face was neutral, as though she had matters more important than the monster. Which, to some extent, was true. After all, people with silver hair tend to have serious shit going down all the time. I'm looking at you, Haseo. It's an online game, stop angsting at people!

"So, this is the Terror of Death..." Said the abiguous youth.

"I thought that you weren't human enough to state the obvious, as most do." Stated the girl. "Yes, that is Skeith, Shadow, and Terror of the End of the Spiral."

The alien creature twisted it's mask, as though tilting it's head. What were these hairless monkies blabbering about?

"Oh, shut it Aura. I've never seen one before." Growled the ambiguous youth. He(or she) looked more beastly than average at this point, never exactly looking too human. Then again, someone who looks to be somewhere between a man and a woman is either beastly, or fetish material.

"Your excuse is accepted, Bukia." Said the girl to the ambiguous youth. She turned her attention towards the monster, who was still twisting it's head at that bizzare angle. The girl said to it, "The hunt for the creator has begun. You are permitted to seek your father, and become spiral species domnus. Spread your black wings, and fly."

The monster's head had untwisted at this point, and it gave a small nod to the girl, and turned to the crowd gathering below. And it aimed it's "palms" towards them, and fired off two thin beams of orange energy, creating massive cross shaped explosion in the wake of the beams. Few civilians were vaporized, and most ran after it moved it's terrifying hands towards them.

And as such, the hunt to gain the blessing of Apeirion had begun.

"Stupid beasts, aren't they? Just killing whatever is in there path and not giving twin shits about it..." Mumbled the youth.

"Indeed." Said Aura. "Why slaughter, when you are given a chance to search?"

"Well, I guess his title isn't for nothing..." Bukia rolled his(or her) eyes.

Aura didn't reply.

"...I stated the obvious again, didn't I?"

"Yes. Yes you did."

"Well, fuck you too."

-o-

The boy woke up to the sound of klaxtons and sirens, grumbling. He tasted blood, which had run into his mouth while he was fain- taking a short nap. Yes. Just taking a short nap. Nothing unnatural about that! Nope! Donovan stood, using the railing as it was intended to be used, to support his weak limbs. He felt... faint. "Ugh... What happened...?" The boy grumbled. "And what is that goddamn SOUND!"

"We're under attack!" Shouted an unnamed bridge bunny. "Reports are coming in... What in the name of god is THAT!" Said another, a girl. "It's not human!" Shouted another. "High positron emissions detected. This guy is packing heat!" "Oh goodness~" "Shut up." The (gorgeous) woman, who sucessfully K.O'd Don, spoke, "As entertaining as your back and forth, double entandre ridden conversations can be, they aren't accomplishing anything. Seal all the launch gates until further notice. The white giant must be protected at all costs."

"Yes ma'am!" The two operators bumbled with their computers, and Don heard metal clashing into metal a distance away, despite the loud clanging sound that was emitting from the spea-

Don promptly tossed a nearby wrench at the speaker making the noise. It was decimated.

"IF I HAVE TO HEAR ONE MORE FUCKING DRONING SOUND, I AM GOING TO FIND SOMETHING HEAVY, AND KILL SOMEONE. I AM DEAD FUCKING SERIOUS." The boy shouted. Everyone seemed to be silenced. Now, if he had just shouted that, someone might've gave him a lecture. But teh fact that he just tossed a wrench at a speaker in an attempt to stop the sound, and succeeded. The possibility that someone might get speared through the head by a railing with a very similar throw was a possibility that now lingered in everyone's mind. The redhead professor deducted in that intelligent mind of hers that the chance of him going on a murderous rampage had either a ninety nine percent chance of happening, or a ten percent chance.

He was a perfect canidate. He can see why the old man chose him.

"Hello there. I see you've woken up from your little nap?" She smiled that sly smile, the kind a woman uses when she's teasing you. "Yeah, I'm awake, thanks for letting me sleep on this cold metal bridge, it sure was comfortable." The boy rolled his eyes... Then he eyed the half submerged in orange tang mecha. His eyes went wide.

"So, boys at your age still like to play with toys?" She softly chuckled. "...Are you implying that I play the skinflute?" The woman's smile faded, and she decided to let the Romeo that was her palm unite with the Juilet that was her face. "No, I'm not implying that." She broke the tight embrace the two lovers shared. "I'm assuming you're Professor Jiiha's grandchild?" The boy arched a brow. "I have a grandad?" The woman seemed surprised.  
>"You didn't know?" The boy shook his head. "Only family I ever knew is gone, never talked about his parents."<br>The woman nodded. "I... see. Well, we'll have to cut introductions short, every minute wasted, the threat gets closer to us." A bridge bunny shouted something about the third armor plating being broken through, as though on cue.

"My name is Susan Litner, head scientist of Project E.U.P, and I'm here to offer you a chance to go beat up a massive monstrosity in a biomechanical beheamoth."

"...Fuck yes, I will!"

Susan seemed surprised. "You will? Just like that?" The boy nodded vigorously. "Hell yeah! What kind of loser would pass up a once in a lifetime chance like that?"

-o-

One or two galaxies away, Shinji Ikari sneezed. Someone must've been calling him a loser again.

-o-

"Well..." Those not wanting to pilot a beast that had a mind of it's own? Those not wanting to risk their lives against something alien? People who are sane?

-o-

Shinji Ikari suddenly gained a boost in confidence, and he turned to his redheaded roomate's room.

"Hey, Asuka?"

"What?"

"I've been, um, doing a few extra things around town to, um, earn some cash. Would you... maybe, like to go out to grab something to, um, eat, sometime, maybe?"

He cringed, expecting the girl to fly out of her room and deal a swift roundhouse kick to the head. That didn't happen though. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"...I'll think about it."

And so, because of an event in some far off galaxy, Shinji Ikari's week became far better than he thought it would be.

-o-

She looked down at a clipboard. "...Well, your enthusiasm is appreciated. I'll have an agent guide you-" She looked up to see an entry plug sliding into M2, and a cloak being discarded. Romeo and Juliet met once again. "God damn it..." she muttered. Susan began spouting technobabble, and the bridge bunnies began messing with their computers, and the Evangelion was being prepared to be lauched to the surface. The entry plugbegan to fill with LCL. Don's reaction could've been predicted by some.

"What the fuck? Oh god, NO, I DON'T WANT TO DROWN IN TANGERINE SPUNglb." Susan sighed. "Relax, it's only LCL. One your lungs fill with it, it'll supply oxygen to your bloodstream." The boy glubbed, "Citrus spunk can make you breathe underwater?" Romeo and Juliet met once again. "It's LCL."

One of the bridge bunnies commented on how high Don's first synch ration was, and Doctor Litner looked impressed. "It really likes you, Don." Don rolled his eyes. "Machines can't like people, they can only kick ass. What kind of scientist are you, anyways?"

Oh, if only he knew the truth.

"...Wait, where'd Bushybrows go?" The woman thought a moment. "He's off... directing operations, I assume."  
>the boy thought a moment, and then he spoke. "He ever ask you on a date?" The woman seemed shocked at first... but then shook her head, snapping herself out of it. "You must've had plenty of time to get to know him while coming here." The boy nodded. "I'm guessing you said no?" The woman raised an eyebrow. "Why is it any of your buisness?" She seemed irritated. She didn't like people digging in her buisness outside of work. Don didn't either, but...<p>

"You know, he dosen't just care about your body. He finds your personality attractive too, and I think next time he asks, you should say yes." The boy replied. Susan gawked a little. The rest of the bridge bunnies stared. How did he just go from being such an asshole to... being sensitive?

"Listen or don't, I don't give a fuck." Stated the boy, regaining his jackassery in the blink of an eye. "I'm gonna go mash a monster's face inside out!" He grinned a grin, filled to the brim with confidence, charisma, and other words that begin with C. Like cookie. Cookies are good. The narrator's personal favorite are peanut butter cookies fresh from the oven, when they're still soft. But enough of that.

The woman shook her head. "We're about to launch you to the surface, so be ready for the ride. You imagination has a lot to do with how M2 is going to react, so I hope you have a vivid one." The boy laughed, "Yeah, yeah, I'll play Dune Raiders with the big monster, I gotcha'." The woman smiled. Maybe if he didn't kill anyone, he would be somewhat enjoyable. That can do attitude should be flexed a little more around SIGN, she thought.

"Launching in 3... 2..." Don braced himself. It wouldn't stop him from screaming various shades of colorful language on the way up, though.

-o-

Skeith pounded away at the fifth metal barrier with his twin beams, having made a good sized smouldering crater at the ground of the city. He was slowly getting irritated that the walls wouldn't give in so eaisily. He was the Terror of Death, the Shadow of The End Of The Spiral, Reaper of the White Moon, That One Boss, and his beams were taking ever so long to dig through a metal barrier. His patience was ticking away, and he was about ready to use -Judgement- and get it over with, when he was distracted by a sound.

At first, it sounded like a garbled mess of gibberish, but as the sound got closer, he could make out a single, and very loud sound.

"...!"

A large hole opened in the earth, and M2, the pilot, and his rainbow slur, were launched to the surface. "I'm never gonna get used to that..." muttered the pilot. He looked up... and saw the beast. His eyes widened as he donned a manical grin. He was scared shitless, yes. Very scared. He could visibly see himself trembling. But he couldn't miss the chance. The moment only came so often, and this was the moment. He had seized it with his own two hands, and he wasn't going to let it go.

"Try to visualize the M2 walking. You've just started this, combat will come soon enough." Said Susan, over some kind of communication system that caused the face of the person to appear to the side of the pilot. Donovan was somewhat freaked by this, but he was more freaked out by the monster that was tilting his mask at the bizzare angel knockoff standing before it.

"A-Alright." Don visualized M2 taking a few steps... and to his surprise, he found himself moving! "Hey! I'm doing it! I'm really doing it! Haha! Look at me, Ma, I'm a real bo- AGH!" He was interupted by Skeith finally coming to the conclusion that the slightly shorter monster was a competetor in the search of the blessing of Apeirion, and knocked it over by telekinetically smacking one of it's legs with the flat of it's crossblade.

"Well well, buddy, if you're looking for a fight..." the M2 hopped to it's feet, and sent it's left fist towards the mask of the monster. "THEN I'LL BE HAPPY TO OBLIGE!" The fist, unfortunately, met an orange field.  
>|-(Skeith's Theme, .hackinfection OST)-| "Wh-What the?"

Back at the bridge, Susan gawked. "It can't be..." The sheild that made the Evangelions near godlike combat machines. The sheild that could halt the most powerful of missiles, and make the armor plating of a tank look like it was a thin layer of half frozen maple syrup. "...An AT Field?"

Skeith's blade, which had returned behind him, stabbed through the field, and nearly took off M2's arm. Donovan, luckily, reacted in time. "What the hell was that?" Shouted the boy. "Giant monsters aren't supposed to have forcefields! Haven't these goddamn monsters ever watched Olympusaurus?" The boy kept dodging the monsters attacks, but only barely. These controls, to him, were awkward and very impractical.

"Goddamn it! Who designed the controls for this piece of shit!" He yelled. Susan imagined her partner's feelings would be deeply wounded by that remark. "Nevermind who made them, try to hit it again."  
>"Gotcha'." Growled Donovan. He dodged a few more slashes and stabs from the biblical blade, before countering with a sudden right hook. Again, it was blocked by the AT Field.<p>

"Damn it! How am I supposed to make it's face into mashed spuds when it's shell is so damn hard?" Susan thought a moment, then had an idea. "Don, imagine a wall infront of you." The boy raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?" The woman gave him a scary look through the monitor. "Just do it." The boy shuddered, and nodded. "Y-Yes ma'am!"

Don closed his eyes tight, focusing all of his imaginary energies, and imagined a wall appearing infront of the M2. Something big, and strong. The sudden sword barrage stopped. Don opened his eyes to see Skeith mercilessly pounding at a similar wall of orange light. "...I can make barriers? Holy shit, this is awesome!"

Skeith grew irritated at the knockoff. It was too nimble for such a clumsy creature, and the sudden use of an AT Field was just queer. So, he decided to simply dispatch of it. Another Palm of Reap sadly wasted, but he had infinite ammounts of energy to use another one. So, he did. It went through M2's AT Field like a knife burning red through butter, and went through the massive machine's upper arm, leaving a decent sized hole there.  
>Don screamed.<p>

"AAAAAAAAH! MY ARM! IT BURNS! NONE OF YOU FUCKERS TOLD ME IT WOULD BE PAINFUL!" One of the bridge bunnies spouted technobabble about losing neural connections with the right arm. Don grasped his arm. It did, infact, feel like someone stabbed him through the arm with a blazing hot cattle prod. Which the narrator would imagine isn't a very pleasent feeling.  
>"Calm down," said the redhead "the wound isn't real, you can operate just fine. Be wary, alright?" The boy sputtered an alright.<p>

"Don, imagine pressing the wall against it's barrier." Don nodded, and M2 held out it's functioning hand, generating another AT Field, and walked forwards, pressing it against Skeith's own. Both barriers disappeared, and Skeith had a puzzled look on it's... mask. If that's possible for a mask to do. It's look was quickly met with a left hook from Don, and it stumbled back, psychic connections in it's limbs faltering, to an extent. He followed the hook with a kick to the monster's "gut", knocking it further off balance, before following up with a kick to the side of the beast's head with the same foot, which severed the psychic connections completely, causing it, and its massive limbs, to fall upon the minor buildings below.

"There are two prog knives in the M2's shoulder fins. Just imagine grabbing a knife." The boy nodded, ignoring the dull throbbing pain in his right arm. "Gotcha'." The doctor noted that life or death situations like this made the boy a little more cooperative, and less rude. Then again, who wouldn't be?

M2 reached up, and took a prog knife from it's left shoulder fin. Skeith's limbs were coming back together, slowly, but surely. So, Don decided to strike now. He targeted the large, attractive red orb that seemed to scream "Stab me! Stab meee~~~!" The knife plunged into, energy from the Super Solenoid being released into the air in the form of sparks. Don dug it in, deeper, and deeper.

Then, the unexpected happened. Don heard a snap, and a roar, and looked up at the mask of the monster. The mask had snapped in a way that it looked like the mask had just suddenly grown a mouth, which it did, and the eyeholes of the mask showed a red glow.

The Angel of Ends had gone berzerk.


End file.
